


We Could Burn Together

by twilightstargazer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, New Year's Eve, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9144238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: “Besides,” she continues with a smirk, leaning over him, “I figured we could end this year with a bang.”Bellamy almost chokes on his tongue because trust Clark to come up with a line that ridiculous and still manage to make it sound hot.or, basically just some nye fuckin'





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4am i'm tired and kinda drunk so forgive me if it's a mess okay happy new year ya filthy animals
> 
> edit: apparently ao3 ate half of it the first time around wtf ao3 so HERE'S A REPOST
> 
> (title from tov lo's 'cool girl')

**10:36 pm [Clarke]:** _what are u doing later?_

His phone chirps on the coffee table, and after glancing at the sender, he pauses the episode of Drunk History he was watching.

It’s New Year’s Eve and Bellamy Blake is home alone because his sister decided to skive off their traditions this year, choosing instead to head down to New York with her fiancé to watch the ball drop in person. Instead, he’s lounging on his couch in a pair of ratty pyjamas, watching Netflix with a half empty can of PBR next to him.

He’s totally winning at life right now.

**10:38 pm [Bellamy]:** _not much. I might switch over from drunk history to ancient aliens though._

 **10:39 pm [Clarke]:** _ur pathetic_

**10:40 pm [Bellamy]:** _ please, i know for a fact that you’re not doing anything either. _

**10:42 pm [Clarke]:** _ shut up _

**10:42 pm [Clarke]:** _ do u know u could be doing later??? _

**10:42 pm [Clarke]:** _ me. _

Bellamy stares at the message for a beat before licking his lips and switching off the TV, taking his time to type out his response. Something tells him that this conversation is bound to be more interesting than whatever he was watching.

**10:45 pm [Bellamy]:** _ is this a booty call? wow you must be bored. _

**10:45 pm [Clarke]:** _ um it’s a booty SEXT blake get ur facts straight _

**10:46 pm [Bellamy]:** _ my bad. _

**10:46 pm [Bellamy]:** _ just out of curiousity, how drunk are you? _

**10:46 pm [Clarke]:** _ um rude i can’t even preposition u without u thinking i’m drunk?? wow that’s blasphemous _

**10:47 pm [Bellamy]:** _ you used the word ‘blasphemous’ correctly in a sentence so I’m assuming not very drunk. _

**10:47 pm [Clarke]:** _ if i was very drunk would i be able to do this? _

**10:47 pm [Clarke]:** _ *1 image attached* _

**10:48 pm [Bellamy]:** _ fuck _

**10:48 pm [Bellamy]:** _ also, to answer your previous question, yes you would; drunk you loves taking her clothes off _

**10:49 pm [Clarke]:** _ *1 image attached* _

**10:50 pm [Bellamy]:** _ fuck okay i’m coming be there in 20 _

**10:50 pm [Clarke]:** _ someone’s definitely coming that’s for sure  _

**10:51 pm [Clarke]:** _ *1 image attached* _

**10:53 pm [Bellamy]:** _ 15 fucking minutes clarke gimme that at least _

**10:54 pm [Clarke]:** _ *1 image attached* _

**10:55 pm [Bellamy]:** _ CLARKE _

**10:55 pm [Clarke]:** _ door’s unlocked babe  _

-

Bellamy would just like the world to know that he started fucking Clarke completely by accident.

Like, it couldn’t be more of an accident had she tripped and landed on his dick. It was  _ that  _ much an accident.

(Okay fine, maybe he’s projecting a little bit, but it’s not like he  _ knew  _ the argument would have led to sex. The argue all the time and never once had it led to her blowing him in the handicapped stall of the bar’s bathroom. And yet, lo and behold here they were; Bellamy’s hand firmly pressed against her mouth to muffle her moans while he drove into her from behind, fast and unforgiving.)

That was back in August.

It’s been four months.

Four months of hook-ups and booty calls and having Clarke whenever he wanted and he figures that they should stop at some point, but honestly? They’re not hurting anyone, and yeah, okay, he might like her a bit more than an average friends with benefits is supposed to, but who cares?

Again, he is totally winning at life right now.

(Well, besides for the side of extra unwanted feelings, but he’s  _ dealing with it _ .)

(Mostly.)

-

Clarke’s door is unlocked, just like she promised, and he slips in easily, toeing his shoes off in the hall. She hasn’t heard him come in, doing the dishes in nothing more than an oversized t shirt that barely covered her ass, and enthusiastically lip syncing along to some catchy pop song being sung out on the TV in such a way that had him biting back a smile.

And then she stretched upward to put away a mug and he caught sight of an edge of red lace that she had been teasing him with before, sending him straight back to boiling.

Bellamy crosses the room in a second, hands landing heavy on her hips, tugging her against him when she jumps in surprise.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” he growls, scraping his teeth across the rapid pulse fluttering in her neck.

Clarke just tips back her head. “Mmm, hello to you too,” she sighs, and he can hear the self satisfied smirk in her voice. He bites down hard on her shoulder with blunt teeth in retaliation.

“I could have been busy, you know,” he says, hands slipping under her shirt. One traces a burning path up her stomach, trailing his fingers over her breasts, while the other remains on her hip, toying with her lace panties. “I could have been doing something important.”

“Well if it’s any incentive,” she says, the hitch in her voice evident as he tweaks a nipple none too gently, “I’m a something important that you could be doing.”

He groans softly into her ear, unable to stop himself from grinding against her ass. The hand on her hip darts between her legs, finding her already drenched, and Bellamy scrapes a nail across her centre, making her twitch.

“Someone is vastly overestimating their self importance,” he murmurs, mouthing his way down her neck.

There’s the creak of the faucet as she turns off the water, and then she’s turning around in his arms, dragging him down for a kiss.

Her mouth is warm and welcoming, soft against his own, and when he licks into her, he can taste the Rosé she was no doubt drinking before he got here. She sighs into, stepping closer, and he can feel the beaded points of her nipples through the shirt, making him grunt.

“Overestimating or not, you can’t honestly tell me that you don’t want to be here,” she says, pointedly palming him through his jeans. “Besides,” she continues with a smirk, leaning over him, “I figured we could end this year with a bang.”

Bellamy almost chokes on his tongue because trust Clark to come up with a line that ridiculous and still manage to make it sound hot.

“Really Princess, that’s what you’re going with?” he asks once he regained the ability to speak, voice dropping several octaves. He doesn’t miss the way Clarke shivers, and that’s when he finally allows his hand to dip beneath that flimsy scrap of lace, covering her entire pussy with one broad swipe.

“Because the way I see it,” he continues, languorously stroking her while she struggles to bite back her gasps of pleasure, “You looked like you were going to end it with a bang, with or without me from those pictures.”

She moans loudly when he rubs his thumb into her clit, and her thighs clench around his hand.

“What should I do with you first, huh?” he muses, still taking his time, working her up with long, even strokes. “Should I take you to you bedroom and spread you out on your sheets like you were in those pretty little pictures?”

He circles her clit once more while suckling meanly at the spot behind her ear, and her knees turn to jelly.

“Or should I hoist you up on the counter and make you beg for it?”

The other hand continues to play with her tits, and Clarke is already rendered nearly speechless by his ministrations, pretty lips pulled open as she pants, head thrown back, and a flush dancing high on her cheekbones.

“Fuck,  _ Bellamy _ ,” she sighs, long and drawn out as she searches for his lips once more.

He acquiesces, kissing her hard, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip and tugging before laving over the sting with his tongue.

When he pulls away- far too soon in her opinion- she whines, pouting petulantly up at him.

Bellamy just chuckles.

“You know what I think?” he says, slipping his fingers out from between her legs and bringing them up to his mouth. His tongue flicks out, just for a moment, licking at them, before he offers it to her, and Clarke gladly sucks on both.

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he says, fond, and she smiles around his fingers in her mouth.

He squeezes the delta of her waist, the only warning she gets before he lifts her onto the counter.

“Anyway, I was thinking since you made me suffer for the sixteen minutes it took to get here, it’s only fair I return the favour,” he says, removing his fingers from her mouth and kissing her, sweet and just a little bit biting, enough that she keens in his mouth, before dropping to his knees.

His hands aren’t gentle on her at all, shouldering her legs apart, and pulling her underwear off so roughly, she wonders if he’s ripped them. The thought sends a flash of heat over her, and a new wave of wetness rushes out from between her legs.

“I’m not stopping until the only thing you can remember is my name in your mouth and my face between your thighs,” he says gruffly, and if Clarke wasn’t on fire before, she’s a fucking  _ inferno  _ now.

The first swipe of his tongue is broad and searching, causing her back to arch forward and a high pitched, “Oh  _ fuck _ ,” to drop from her lips.

“Look how wet you are, babe,” he says, pressing a smacking kiss to the place where her thigh meets her hip, “ _ Fuck _ , you’re dripping. Did playing with your pussy before I came over get you this wet, Clarke?”

That was the third picture she sent, the barest outline of a dainty hand disappearing down the front of those panties, and Bellamy was hard before he even stepped foot outside it apartment complex.

“No, I was- I was thinking about you,” she gasps, legs flexing on his shoulders, “Your hands, your mouth… the pictures were just for show.”

He pauses, letting a grin unfurl across his lips.

“Is that so?” he fucking purrs and she tries to roll her hips against his face, but is stopped by a muscled forearm, pinning her in place. “What about about my hands and mouth?”

“You’re so good with them, too good in fact,” she stumbles over her words, a faint frown marring her features as he stops her from getting the friction she wants. “Bellamy,  _ please _ .”

“Easy babe,” he croons, swiping at her gently just to take the edge off a little bit. She almost sobs in relief, and her hands dart to his hair, tangling in it. It stings sweetly, and he grunts with it, finally leaning back in to lick at her cunt.

Bellamy wasn’t kidding about making her suffer, he gets her cranked up in no time, fucking her hard with his tongue, and spreading her apart with his hands, sometimes sneaking up to rub her clit. He keeps her dangling on that precipice for the same sixteen minutes he promised, but they felt like hours, and no matter how much Clarke begged or pleaded, he still wouldn’t let him and let her go.

It’s driving her insane, and her entire body is shaking, drenched in sweat.

“You like that, Princess?” he growls against her pussy pulling back so that he could switch to fucking her with his fingers. “I can never fucking get enough of you.”

“I need- Bellamy, come on, please,” she pants, head thrown back, both hands cupping her tits together, “I need you to-”

“Oh I know exactly what you need,” he tells her, slowing his pace until the only sounds to be head are her broken moans and the wet squelch of his fingers each time he presses into her. “You want to come, don’t you Clarke?”

“ _ Yes _ .”

“You want to come, and you can feel it, right there, but you just can’t reach it,” he drives his fingers in as deep as they can go, rubbing up against the rough patch of nerves at the end of her cunt, and she cries out.

Clarke’s just about accepted the fact that he won’t be happy until he drives her out of her fucking mind with need, when he finally closes his lips around her clit and  _ sucks _ .

_ Hard _ .

It feels like her entire world fucking shatters, and Bellamy laps it all up, working her through the orgasm.

“Fuck, I love watching you come,” he says, pulling back just far enough to stare at her, head thrown back in ecstasy and mouth curved open in a silent scream. “So fucking beautiful.”

He doubts that Clarke hears that or any of the other praises her mouths into her skin, completely blissed out, and it’s not until her grip on his hair loosens does she come back to him, all bleary eyes and completely doped out smile.

“Not done with you yet, Princess,” he says rough, pushing down his jeans to free his cock. He’s been hard since they started texting earlier that night, and fucking her all sorts of ways was the only thing he could think of on his way over, especially after she sent him those pictures; the topless one, the one with her squeezing her tits together, and the one where her hand slid beneath her panties all played on repeat as he took the train over and prayed no one paid too much attention to him.

Clarke Griffin is going to be the death of him, but what a way to go.

“You gonna fuck me on the counter or the bed?” she asks, slowly pulling herself up. Clarke loops her arms around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, slow and sloppy, as she licks the taste of herself out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna fuck you everywhere,” he promises hotly, thrusting into her hand a little as she strokes him, lining him up with her cunt. She’s still wet and tingling with the remnants of her last orgasm, but the sight of his cock- hard and thick and ready- is enough to get her ready once more.

She shudders when he settles in the cradle of her hips, rutting against her. “That’s what I like to hear,” she whispers in his ear, and then her head drops to his shoulder when he finally slides home in just one thrust, moaning loud enough that she’s certain her neighbours hear.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, babe,” Bellamy groans as he pulls out maddeningly slow, “So fucking tight and wet and hot. So hot Clarke.”

Behind them, the countdown starts on the television, and Clarke tries for a breathless giggle, pulling him close.

“You know, they say who you kiss when the clock strikes twelve is the one you’re gonna be kissing for the rest of the year,” she says, moaning when his hips snap back against hers, just as hard as before. “Wonder if it’s the same for fucking?”

He laughs in her ear, as he starts to press wet kisses along her jawline. “I thought they said whatever you’re doing when the clock strikes twelve sets the outlook for the rest of your year?” he counters, mouthing his way across her tits and groaning at the feel of them in his hands.

“Either way, looks like I’ll just be stuck with you this year,” she shrugs, hitching her leg higher on his hip so that when he thrusts into her next time, he hits that spot deep inside her, the one that has her seeing her own personal display of fireworks behind her eyelids.

“Either way,” he gasps when he feels her cunt start to tighten around him.

Clarke comes with drawn out moan of his name, shaking and shuddering in his arms, and Bellamy follows with a half dozen thrusts later, the walls of her cunt clinging to him like a vice and milking him for everything that he’s worth. He groans into her neck, gripping her hips so hard that he’s sure that it’ll leave a bruise.

They stay like that, tangled together, Clarke tracing the bump of vertebrae in his spine while Bellamy tries to find his breath once more.

When they finally do part, she catches his hand, and uses it to pull him close, kissing him slow and lazy. The TV is nothing more than white noise in the background, and one kiss turns to two, then three, while her hands find themselves back in his hair and he pulls her until their chests are both pressed together.

“Happy New Year, Bell,” Clarke whispers softly, pecking him on the cheek.

He squeezes her hand. “Happy New Year, Clarke.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm always yelling on [tumblr](http://hiddenpolkadots.tumblr.com)


End file.
